


Busted

by FictionAddiction23



Category: One Piece
Genre: Acceptance, Awkward Conversations, Caught, Cute, Drug Use, Drug-Induced Sex, Drunk Sex, Emotional Sex, Emotionally Repressed, Established Relationship, Feelings, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Love, Love Confessions, Love/Hate, M/M, Morning After, Morning Cuddles, Mugiwara no Ichimi | Straw Hat Pirates, Naked Cuddling, Neck Kissing, Play Fighting, Protective Roronoa Zoro, Recreational Drug Use, Rough Kissing, Secret Relationship, Short & Sweet, Touch-Starved, Tsunderes, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Wooing, Worried Vinsmoke Sanji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21613492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionAddiction23/pseuds/FictionAddiction23
Summary: Keeping a relationship on the down-low isn't easy. One little slip up, and you're busted. If you also catch feelings...then what?!
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 19
Kudos: 258





	Busted

**Author's Note:**

> Hurry! Here's a good-old-fashioned "caught-us-red-handed" one-shot!
> 
> If you like it, please check out my other ZoSan fics! I hope you enjoy :)

"..."  
  
“I…I’m not the only one seeing this, right? That’s really Sanji and Zoro— _together?!”_ Usopp asked meekly, his gaze locked on the unforeseen spectacle that had interrupted their collective morning hangover.

“I don’t exactly have eyes to see it with, but if I did, they would surely be popping out of my skull right now,” Brook replied tonelessly.

The lack of his signature “Yohohohoho!” was an immediate indication that he was truly beyond shock, and he wasn’t the only one.

All of the Straw Hats, excluding Nami and Robin, were currently gathered in the men’s cabin, having just woken up after an _insane_ island-wide party in celebration of the king’s engagement. Most of them barely remembered the events of the previous night, (due to the partaking of an especially potent hallucinogenic substance and enough liquor to get even Roronoa Zoro hammered beyond reason), but _none_ of them could have predicted the scene they would be waking up to.

“Are they… _cuddling?_ ” Franky asked, utterly perplexed. 

“Badly, I think,” Chopper giggled, stretching onto the tips of his hooves to peek curiously over the edge of Zoro’s hammock where the swordsman was sleeping very much not alone. “I can’t believe Sanji would get into the same bed as Zoro! Do you think he climbed in by mistake in the dark? He’ll be so mad when he wakes up!”

“That’s certainly possible,” Brook mused, “but I would think it unlikely considering their rather compromising position, yohohoho!”

“Look, they’re in their underwear! Shishishishi!”

“No talking for you, Luffy—you’ll _definitely_ wake them up, and then it’s anyone’s guess which one of us they’ll kill first! We should all just leave and pretend we never saw anything. Franky and I are already gonna have to fix a bunch of shit after all hell inevitably breaks loose, and I don’t want to add any fuel to that fire. I say we lock the door behind us and let them duke it out in a controlled area,” Usopp suggested wisely.

“They look suuuper trashed,” the cyborg observed with a hearty laugh. “Maybe we should try and move Sanji back to his own bunk and hope that they were both too drunk last night to remember sleeping together.”

“Y-you don’t think…I mean, they couldn’t have, like, actually _done it,_ right? That would be crazy.”

“I’ve conducted a fair bit of research on human mating habits,” Chopper interjected helpfully, “and there’s a surprising amount of documentation on physical relationships within pirate crews, particularly between male crewmates. The human ability to form bonds is a fascinating subject!”

“But I’m _bored._ Why are you guys still standing around talking about it?” Luffy whined impatiently. “Pirates can do whatever they want—so what if they’re cuddling?”

“You don’t understand, Luffy. This is very complicated adult stuff,” Usopp told him condescendingly.

“Bleh! You aren’t any older than me—and _I’m_ the captain, so you can’t treat me like a kid!”

“Shh! Luffy!”

Usopp had noticed the telltale signs of the cook’s sleeping form slowly being roused to consciousness by the obnoxious sound of their immature captain’s voice, but it was too late to stop it from disturbing the pirate’s slumber.

Slowly but surely, Sanji began moving as his tangled limbs unconsciously stretched themselves out. A collective moment of awkward tension permeated the cabin when the five of them witnessed the hot-tempered cook—a man who was usually unfailingly hostile towards the equally disagreeable swordsman—drape his arm across Zoro’s bare chest as he made himself more comfortable against the greenhaired man.

None of their nakama could have described the inconceivable expressions on the sleeping men’s faces if they’d tried.

“…They look rather sweet,” Brook remarked amusedly.

“If only they could always get along with each other like this,” Usopp lamented. “Look at how quiet they’re being—the girls would get a kick out of this for sure.”

“Hold up,” Franky told them. “We should all make a manly pact, bro-to-bro, to NEVER tell the ladies what we saw today. Zoro seems like the type who could maybe brush this off and act nonchalant, but I’m not sure that Cook-bro’s cheese will stay on his crackers if his precious Nami or Robin find out about this, you get me?”

“You just HAD to go and say their names,” Usopp lamented. “Sanji’s definitely waking up—okay-well-I’m-outta-here-good-luck-bye!”

Before the cowardly sharpshooter could tuck-tail and escape the situation, the cook’s gravelly smoker’s voice grumbled, “Shut up, Usopp, your voice is annoying as fuck.”

It came out half-muffled against Zoro’s shoulder which Sanji only realized after a small pause during which his nakama waited patiently with bated breath.

3…2…1…

“E-EH?! W-what the— _FUCK!”_

“Goddammit, Cook, I JUST woke up! Why are you shouting like—?”

Zoro’s annoyed response was immediately silenced by the five pairs of eyes curiously overlooking the scene. The swordsman did a wild double-take upon realizing the position they were in, his gaze locking with their captain who broke into a shit-eating grin.

“Did you and Sanji have a nice nap?” he asked sweetly, causing the swordsman’s face to instantly pale until his bronze skin was nearly the same shade as the cook’s—the blond was also sporting a ghostly complexion due to the shock of finding himself the center of what must be some very unwanted attention.

“Uh…w-well, that’s—I mean, we were just…”

“ _Don’t_ say another goddamn word, marimo. I’ll fucking kill you,” Sanji cut in with a dangerous glint in his eye.

Some sort of pressure (likely the slow compression of burning rage) seemed to be slowly building inside the slimmer man’s form which had all but become a statue beside the swordsman in the hammock. His hands were shaking ever so slowly as they gripped the blanket, holding the fabric like a shield between the rest of their crewmates and his modesty.

“Why the hell are you gonna kill _me?!_ ” Zoro asked him uncomprehendingly. “You were twice as fucking wasted as I was when we got back here, which you’re welcome for, by the way—getting your drunk ass back to the ship was not an easy task, so of course I passed out the second we got in.”

“I DON’T WANNA HEAR YOUR LAME EXCUSES!” Sanji exploded in a sudden burst of aggressive movement towards the swordsman.

The shift in weight caused the hammock to overturn, spilling the half-naked pirates onto the floorboards—not that either man seemed at all concerned that they were still in their underpants and engaging in a childish public scuffle, all before breakfast.

“After all of the shitty effort we went to, you just _had_ to go and ruin everything! What part of returning TWENTY MINUTES APART didn’t you understand?!”

“Oh, I’m sorry—maybe you’re forgetting the bit where I carried you onboard, held your fucking hair while you yacked up an entire bottle of Goldschläger in Nami’s tangerine grove—I’m sure she would’ve _loved_ it if I hadn’t been there to clean up afterwards—and then I was even nice enough to let you stay here after you literally _begged_ me not to leave you and refused to sleep in your own bed.”

“OBVIOUSLY, I was extremely inebriated and therefore not responsible for this! I don’t care if I’d somehow managed to handcuff us both to your hammock last night—HOW COULD YOU LET THIS HAPPEN?! I’ll never forgive you, you bastard!”

“Well, I guess since I’m already on your shit-list, you should know that there’s a nasty hickey on your throat. Might wanna cover that up.”

“Oh, I can help with that, Sanji! I picked up this great healing salve at the last island—”

“Please, for the love of God, Chopper…no.”

“What he really needs is a hangover cure—shitty-cook can’t drink worth shit.”

“ _No,_ what I _need_ is a couple bags of XF to keep you alive long enough for me to kick your ass, kick it again, and then _murder_ you in cold blood! How are your blood stores lookin’, Doc?”

“You’re not really going to fight, are you Sanji? It’s okay…Nobody minds if you and Zoro want to mate with each other. Maybe it’ll help you get along better, and then less stuff will get damaged!” the little doctor told them excitedly.

Sanji made an unintelligible noise and buried his face in his hands to hide the flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks.

“I never would’ve guessed that the two of you were so close. You even know his blood type, Sanji-san, how cute~~~♥!” Brook commented, half in sing-song.

“That’s it—the marimo is off the hook until I murder this undead skeleton. We’ll be having a lovely bone broth buffet for dinner…and WHERE THE HELL ARE MY PANTS?!”

“You left them in the aquarium, dipshit, when you said that you thought the _fish_ might want a better look at your dick. At least tell me you remember the _next_ part—my stomach won’t sit right otherwise.”

The cook blushed even harder since, evidently, he did recall the events Zoro was referring to—in fact, they were permanently burned into the blond’s memory.

“Sh-shut up, idiot! I remember just fine! Have a little modesty, fuck-face,” Sanji snapped at him, fidgeting uncomfortably on the spot as he did everything he could to _not_ think about the crazy-hot sex they’d had last night (after the cook had recovered from his binge-drinking, of course). The two men seemed to be alternating between having their own private conversation and addressing their unexpected audience.

“What the fuck are you all still looking at?!”

Nobody was stupid enough to respond when Sanji used that tone—nobody except for their clueless captain. Even though Luffy had tuned out most of the conversation, he was apparently more curious about his crewmates’ relationship than he’d seemed. The rubber man even deigned to look up from his chosen seat, sprawled haphazardously on a couch headrest, to pierce the cook and the swordsman with surprisingly intense scrutiny.

“You know, I don’t really get it…How can the two of you even have sex when you’re both guys?”

“ _Oh my God_ , Luffy, you can’t just _ask_ people how they have sex!” Sanji shouted, mortified. *

“Hmm…I must admit that I’m somewhat curious about the arrangement myself,” Brook added offhandedly.

“Fuck off! It’s none of your busine—”

“We take turns.”

“…?!”

“What?” Zoro asked the traumatised cook, feigning innocence.

“Alright, the show’s fucking over, assholes! Clear out. I’ll call you if I need any extra muscle to remove this shitty-bastard’s corpse,” Sanji told them, his tone deceptively light despite the figurative powder keg that was about to explode.

“Y-yessir!” Usopp squeaked, immediately taking his leave before the situation could escalate.

It was comical how quickly the room cleared after that with the men tripping over themselves to follow Usopp into a safer space, leaving their two embarrassed crewmates to work it out amongst themselves.

After the door to the men’s galley clanged shut, you could hear a pin drop in the silence that settled. It was immediately nerve-wracking—especially for Zoro who had looked to his partner for any signal as to what the swordsman should say. Although he didn’t agree that Sanji was blameless in the affair (it could easily be argued that the cook was the instigator in all this), Zoro did feel somewhat deserving of the other man’s anger. 

After all, he hadn’t forced Sanji to go back to his own bunk when he’d had the chance. He had been too appreciative of the cook’s sudden desire to be near him—in a different way than either of them was used to or, indeed, had ever imagined before the introduction of such potent, unnatural substances—basically, he had allowed himself to be persuaded.

Sanji really might kill him for it, too. He had been adamant about their passionate night being a one-time, spur-of-the-moment deviation from their usual interactions—a passing phase brought on by the drugs they’d been taking, and nothing more.

They had broken all the standard rules by having sex on the ship, in a room without a lock, with _lights on_ (imagine it!) _,_ even facing one another at times—the list of unrestrained actions went on. Needless to say, it had been a highly improper risk from the start. Something had changed during their transition from the aquarium to the men’s dorm room, though.

A softness had crept into them both, making it nearly impossible to separate once they were confined to the darkness of the cabin. The cook really had put up a fierce argument which the exhausted swordsman had easily accepted as fact.

“I…feel like I’ll die if I stop touching you right now,” Sanji had confided earnestly, clutching one hand to his chest as he pleaded with the inebriated swordsman.

“…”

And that was that. The drugs had by no means worn off, so those words had immediately pierced Zoro’s heart, drawing out protective instincts that he rarely ever needed to direct at the cook and making him fiercely regret asking his nakama to suffer through this night alone. Somewhere in his brain, he knew that Sanji would want him to act as though nothing out of the ordinary had transpired. He should insist that they go their separate ways as usual.

But then, the cook had kissed him—just like that.

For the first time.

On his actual mouth.

Despite all the mischief they’d gotten into behind closed doors, Sanji had _never_ allowed them to go as far as that—it was the last unbroken rule. Even during the hour in the aquarium, when they’d been half-delirious with passion, the cook hadn’t interacted with Zoro much differently than was to be expected at this stage in their relationship…but that kiss had been different. It had obliterated all remaining resistance in the swordsman, making him temporarily forget the consequences of them being discovered in the morning.

Looking back on it, Zoro felt distinctly like a victim in equal measure, but he still wouldn’t deny Sanji his right to be angry all the same. He didn’t _look_ angry anymore which surprised the swordsman more than anything else since the blond had been raging at everybody only a minute ago, but now he was simply sitting there with his hands still gripping the blankets.

“Do you…want me to go look for your pants?” he offered lamely—a pathetic attempt to escape the sea before a storm.

Sanji said nothing. Most of his face was shadowed by the curtain of his hair, but his mouth and chin were set. Zoro watched the muscles working around his jaw, neck, and collar as the stress of this morning challenged his ability to bury the memories of last night forever.

Just when Zoro thought that the cook had succeeded in this feat of self-control, a desperate sound burst out of Sanji’s mouth like a dam collapsing under the weight of water. His breath stuttered out of his chest which, paradoxically, seemed to be gasping for more air as a string of broken words managed to force their way out.

“ _Fuck_ —Z-Zoro…I’m…”

“Just relax, Cook, we can talk about this. Everybody’ll forget about it soon enough, so don’t freak out over _one_ little drug-filled bender—”

“Zoro!”

The swordsman held his tongue, puzzled by the other man’s wretched tone.

“I’m… _sorry_ ,” Sanji told him in a half-sob. “I fucking did this,” he confessed unexpectedly. “I should’ve known better than to let us try eating and drinking all that weird shit—even if those lovely ladies serving us seemed trustworthy enough—but besides that, I shouldn’t have fucking started this between us in the first place! I knew it could only end badly—it could never be kept a secret indefinitely…what the fuck was I even thinking?”

“What the fuck were _we_ thinking? I think the answer is that we weren’t, obviously.”

“No, we were just fucking.”

“…Right.”

“But…” Sanji paused, turning his face to further obscure its expression from the swordsman’s penetrating gaze. “It’s _not_ just fucking, is it?” he asked quietly.

“No, not anymore.”

The cook sucked in a sharp breath because Zoro had said it with such certainty.

“Then…what is it?”

 _Fuck, he’s so fucking cute when he’s shy,_ the swordsman thought helplessly. Seriously, what was even _happening_ right now? Zoro had thought he was about to get his ass kicked, or at least get an earful of expletives, but this was…

“Are you saying that you don’t even know _that_ —and you call yourself the ‘Love Cook’?!” Zoro teased, causing a truly immaculate blush to paint over the other man’s handsome features.

“Wh-what the hell kind of stupid response is that, bastard?! Can’t you be a little more serious? WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO NOW?!” Sanji raged, as if yelling about it could change the fact that his face had gone redder than a tomato—and not because of anger.

“‘What are we going to do now?’…Cook, if you ask me something like that when we’re alone like this…I might get bad ideas,” he hinted slyly, suddenly wondering if it were possible to make a man blush himself into submission—Sanji certainly seemed close. 

“I really goddamn hate you, you know that?”

The words were spoken at a volume so low that Zoro had to lean forward to catch them. Sanji had dropped his face into his hands, spine curved so that he could rest his elbows on his knees, shoulders hunched in defeat, and yet, Zoro still knew that he was smiling.

“I hate you, too, Sanji.”

“…”

“Will you get back into the hammock at least? I want to sleep for a bit longer after that rude awakening.”

“…No.”

“The others aren’t going to come back any time soon—not if they know what’s good for them.”

“NO! Get your fucking head out of the gutter, marimo, and DON’T TOUCH ME!” the cook squealed since Zoro had made a move to draw his crumpled form towards him.

“Don’t be such a prude—I didn’t even mean it like that—I just…”

Sanji actually shut up for a moment to stare at the swordsman’s soft expression. He didn’t move a muscle to resist Zoro’s next insistent tug and allowed himself to be drawn into the circle of the other man’s arms

They stayed like that for perhaps ten seconds, just looking at each other on the hardwood floor, still in nothing but their skivvies. Heat had gathered at all of the places where their skin connected, more visible against Sanji’s paleness and especially across the bridge of his nose and cheeks—the cook could snap and bite and claw at Zoro’s advances all he wanted, but his body couldn’t lie convincingly.

“I know that you won’t die,” Zoro told him suddenly, capturing the other man’s bewildered eye. “If we stopped touching like this…I know neither of us will die, so it’s fine if it was only the drugs talking before and now you’re saying, ‘Don’t touch me.’”

“What are you getting at?! If you understand, then why are you being so damn insistent?” Sanji asked despite how he was evidently leaning into the swordsman’s embrace at that very moment.

“Because I _still_ feel like that, dumbass. Even without the drugs or alcohol, if I were to let you go—if things just went back to normal—it would feel like I was allowing myself to die.”

“Zor—?!”

“Tell me the truth, Sanji. Do you still feel like that, too?”

He was giving the cook a clear choice, and they both knew that he understood what it was—Sanji could easily pull out of the embrace and forget about the entire affair as well as the mutual confession each of them had given (in not-so-many words), or he could choose to accept what the swordsman was offering.

He didn’t need to get out any words for Zoro to guess what the answer was—his unfortunate tendency to blush told him all there was to know—but the swordsman was glad to hear it stated aloud all the same.

“I _feel_ like you should shut up and kiss me—and that’s all I’m willing to say on the subject,” Sanji told him, rather nervously.

Zoro couldn’t help his own grin. “I’m sure you know this by now, Cook, but I’ll always accept whatever scraps you can give me,” he purred deliciously, stealing a kiss at the base of the cook’s neck before drawing him into a fierce lip-lock.

 _Damn it, this bastard thinks he can sweet-talk me just like that, and I’ll be putty in his hands!_ Sanji thought to himself, truly flustered beyond belief.

 _Well, maybe this_ one _time…he's not totally wrong… <3_

;)


End file.
